Archer: Shards
by Marshal Yenom
Summary: An average person from our world, I had just finished a CYOA for Worm, the web serial that likes to tear down the superhero genre. I went to make them as broken as I could without taking the highest-level powers, and was sucked in. My story? Read on! rated T because Worm
1. Chapter 1

Archer: Shards

An average person from our world, I had just finished a CYOA for Worm, the web serial that likes to tear down the superhero genre. I went to make them as broken as I could without taking the highest-level powers, and was sucked in. My story? Read on!

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A crack rang through the room I was in, having cracked my neck. I was sitting in front of my computer, just now having completed the CYOA I was working on. I had chosen to use the Gimel version, due to wanting to make the most broken character I could out of the least broken version, without choosing the highest tier powers. It came out like this-

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Worm CYOA, Version 5 Update Gimel

Points Remaining- 1/1

Character-

Gestation +15/15

Hero-New Wave -1/1

Insert-Male-Teenager-High Schooler -0/0

Thematic -3/0

Martial Arts -4/0

Tactics -4/0

Foreign Element -3/3

Perks-Powers

x2-Second Trigger -4/3

Case 53 +0/1 (Cat Ears)

Humble Beginnings +5/5

Plot Relevance

Power Sight -0/1

Unlimited Shard Works -0/7 (Second Trigger)

True or False -0/3 (Second Trigger)

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_'Not too bad, I believe. Of course, if it is ever known what I imagine this character to be able to do, it would have a PRT rating of Trump-12+, Thinker 5 or so. It'll copy the powers of any Parahuman put against them, be able to ask enough questions to guess near-enough the limits of those powers, use any mental powers, and have them copied permanently. Due to Foreign Element, they're also able to mix and match pieces of those powers, which should also be stronger. Like the parallel thinking of Queen Administrator combined with, say, the hard-light shields of those that have them in New Wave, controlling each independently.'_

While I was thinking on how the people who made this didn't catch this loophole, it had finished printing. I had been planning on showing this to several people and see what they thought of it. Of course, that was never going to happen, due to the words on the piece of paper I had picked up shuddering, before ghostly copies drifted off the page and up into the air. The spectral words then shot into my chest, and I dropped the paper. A moment later, I was sucked into the same spot those words disappeared into.

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_When you read a Self-Insert or OC-Insert story, that character is usually aware of what's going on, or at least that they've been reborn, as soon as their born. It wasn't like that for me. I slowly regained my memories over the course of a year, after I had Triggered. In this life, I was named James Greenwood. I was born to two loving parents, who raised me for the next nine years in, as cliché as it is, Brockton Bay. It was during the summer after fifth grade ended, and we were going out for my birthday (9th) on the day they died. We were caught up in a minor skirmish between the E88 and the Merchants. It took around 10 minutes of the 'Heroes' to get there, and at some point, my parents were killed. _

_I remember wishing had some power, any power, so that I could have helped them before they died. It was soon after that the Heroes had arrived, and by then the fight was almost over. I was sent to the only remaining family I had, my grandfather, who was a retired Parahuman from the PRT. He was called Archer, because his power made him shoot perfectly wherever he aimed, with the he used arrows being generated from seemingly nothing. His ability was limited, it did not make him always hit, instead the arrow will always fly through the space he wanted it to. It also didn't work with guns. _

_We had figured out the copying aspect of my power after grandfather demonstrated his for me. I wanted to try, so he chuckled and gave me his bow so I could. I still think he was expecting me to fail so he could tease me. I had failed to remember his abilities came from his power, and at that point my cat ears, which had been buried under my hair until then, unfolded. That shocked him quite a bit, and me actually using my copy his power shocked him even more. He mused on whether I was a Trump, and I asked the same question of myself. Of course, that activated my other power, telling me yes, which I then informed him of. He asked me if I was also a Thinker, I asked myself, and got a yes again. We kept asking questions and getting answers, trying to find the limits to my powers. It seemed the only limit to my Thinker power was that they had to be yes/no questions. If the answers didn't lean towards one or the other, I would get what are commonly known as Thinker headaches. For the next six years, grandfather kept me as far away from the fighting as he could, until he passed away of old age when I was fifteen, part way through the school year and a few days after New Year's. The school I went to obviously being Winslow, because of me not caring enough about my grades to get into Arcadia. He had been quite mischievous while raising me, getting me to take up a verbal quirk, Nya, like you see in anime with cat/Neko people. I can't stop myself from saying it unless I speak carefully, as it's pretty much ingrained by now. Nor do I really want to, as it's one of the few things I have remaining from my grandfather, other than his house and his old bow. _

_It about when my grandfather died that I regained the last few memories I had of my old life, including those of a certain web serial called Worm. Taylor Hebert, the main character of the story, was in another classroom and I couldn't do anything to help her with the locker. On that day, I was doing something else, as to continue with the clichés. On that day was my grandfather's funeral. And this is where my story truly, Begins!_

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My grandfather's funeral ended around three hours ago, the school about one. Yesterday, I left my bag at the school. They figured out it was mine, and called to tell me that I had to retrieve it or it would be thrown out before school tomorrow. I entered the building quickly and went to the classroom they told me it would be in. They were too lazy to even move it anywhere else. On my way to the classroom specified, I came across the strange sight of a lot of bugs surrounding a locker that had the most disgusting smell I could remember from either life. '_Huh. Was that caused by a cape?'_ when I asked the question, I had forgotten about True or False, which told me _yes_. For some reason, I had a growing feeling of dread.

'_Was it a new Trigger?'_

_Yes_

'_Was it another one of those three's pranks?'_

_Yes_

'_Is the person in the locker Taylor Hebert?'_

_Yes _

It was then I remembered the beginning of the web serial, and Taylor's Trigger Event. That explained my dread. I quickly used one part of my grandfather's power to form an arrow, which I proceeded to stab into the lock. With the lock broken, I could take a look at what had happened to Taylor in her time in the locker. It was... not a pretty sight, to say the least. She had various wounds of many severities, most of them looking infected, I could still see bugs trying to eat her. I assume her power is stopping them from doing so, instead they were crawling across her. With a quick command, all bugs in my range, which was a fair bit further than hers, went as far away as they could. It was quite obvious why I remember most fanfiction starting from this point bring in Panacea to heal her. I was quick to call 911.

"911 what is your emergency?" I heard someone respond, in a bit of a bored tone.

"I have a girl here who was trapped in a locker filled with what amounts to toxic waste for the past four hours. She was being eaten alive by bugs, and most of her wounds are infected." I answered quickly.

This time, the person on the other end sounded much more alert. "Where are you calling from?"

"Winslow high school, from the main office go down the hallway, then the second hallway on the left. Down that hallway, and then the first on the right," after I gave the directions, they hung up, hopefully to call an ambulance and pass along my directions. While I waited, I took a few pictures. While fanfiction shouldn't, couldn't be taken as absolute, Winslow was _bad _and I wasn't about to take chances.

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It was about 3 minutes before the ambulance arrived, and the medical personnel ran to where I was. When they got here, they paused for a moment as they saw her. Understandable, and they recovered remarkably quickly. They didn't say anything to me, simply put Taylor on the stretcher and brought me along with them. They occasionally glanced at my cat ears, which were twitching all over the place because of how angry I was, but didn't comment. Right now, I didn't really care that I was outing myself, I was too angry and my civilian identity had nothing they could use as leverage. I had no friends, and the last of my family was my grandfather. On the way to the ambulance, there were several people watching, having hear the sirens and wondered what they were doing in a school. I didn't even bother trying to hid myself, it would be useless anyway, too many people recording as soon as they saw my ears. We quickly got into the vehicles and drove away.

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When we got to the hospital, Taylor was put into one of the emergency rooms. Luckily for us, Panacea was on her shift at the moment, due to it being so soon after school hours. She was called down to the room, before we even arrived, and was waiting there for us. One of the doctors gestured for me to tell her what I had seen, not having the time to really examine her during the time it took to make sure she didn't die. The story described her remarkably well, I mused as she looked to me for an explanation.

"As far as I can tell," I started, with a cold anger. "she was trapped in her school locker four-six hours, cramped on top of what is best classified as a combination of biological waste, her own blood and bile, along with whatever small number of bugs that were eating her alive for most of that time that she killed with her thrashing. Most of her wounds seem to be infected, and her fingernails are partially torn off due to her trying to claw the door off. There might be more injuries, but that was as far as I could tell."

She looked horrified through my retelling, and had already gone ahead and started healing Taylor partway through without asking permission. I approved. While I am slightly saddened neither of us had a choice in the matter, my power copied hers as soon as I saw her use it, along with the bio-sight aspect. I walked over and started to copy and help along what Panacea was doing with Taylor's biology, which surprised her, although she seemed grateful for it. Fortunately, she held off on the questions until after we were finished. It was rather interesting what we were doing, as it was based around biokinetics we were using the biomass of herself, the waste, practically everything covering her other than her clothes. It was after Taylor was fully healed, which was almost instantly, when the questions started.

"How?" one word, yet it was all that was needed.

I flicked an ear at her, and she blushed lightly, although she kept staring at me. I sighed, "I am a Trump. I create a copy of any power I see used right in front of me instantly. The powers I copy are always stronger in some way, and I can see powers and their mental effects, which I can also copy. I can also use separate aspects of different powers synergistically with others." I saw her give an involuntary shiver at this, which I could understand. It was a rather terrifying power, I admit. "I can also see the hard-coded limits of those powers, like you with brains, inability to do anything other than healing even if it does use bio-kinetics," I gave her a look, "inability to heal yourself, and the time it takes you to heal people. My power disregards all of those. Hard-coded, because other than a couple of Trump powers, you cannot change that. If I obtained a Mover power I would go faster, Thinker I would get more information with fewer headaches, with a Brute I would be stronger, ect." I finished my explanation there.

She was speechless for several seconds, before commentating on what I said, "That would be... Trump 10, _at_ _least_. Almost certainly 12+. That, is _terrifying_." She certainly looked scared. I smiled soothingly at her.

"Best part is? After today, I don't have a civilian identity. Kind of hard to, after being caught on quite a few cameras without my ears hidden," I watched her as she thought through what I said. She was a smart girl, so it didn't take her very long to work through and figure out the meaning of what I said.

"You- want to join New Wave!?" She sounded quite astonished. I continued smiling.

"Yup! My grandfather was _very _good friends with yours, Nya~!" She stared at me for a minute, while I managed to look both horrified and nostalgic at the same time. She then proceeded to laugh her head off, rolling on the floor.

"Did-did you seriously just say _Nya_?"

"Yes, when my grandfather took me in after m-my parents died, we were testing out my powers, and my cat ears popped up. Ever since, he tried everything he could to make me say it. By now, it's just habit. Even still, I don't want to stop. It's one of the few things I have to remember him by, now." My voice got quieter towards the end, enough so that I wasn't entirely certain that she heard me. Evidentially she did, because soon after I finished speaking, she got up and hugged me. It was a bit awkward, I doubted she often tried to comfort someone whose family died, and mostly only hugged her sister in the first place, yet I still appreciated it.

She let go or me after a minute, and continued with the conversation of me possibly joining New Wave. "If you really want to join, we'll have to talk to the rest of our group about it."

**XXXXX**

**I think I'll end this here. So, this came about while I was thinking on one of my other stories, remembered this particular CYOA, and wondered if anyone else had thought of this loophole. The only reason this has a chance of being as broken as I imagine it to be is because I think of Abaddon Shards as either increasing or removing certain limits on powers. Parts of it are almost entirely broken, say using the parallel thought processes of Queen Administrator, layering effect of Skidmark's power, and then you can either layer those hard-light shields of the Dallon's, or control a lot of them independently from one another. **


	2. Chapter 2

Archer: Shards

An average person from our world, I had just finished a CYOA for Worm, the web serial that likes to tear down the superhero genre. I went to make them as broken as I could without taking the highest-level powers, and was sucked in. My story? Read on!

**Right, before anyone asks, as no-one has yet, Amy and Jason will not be in a romantic relationship, instead are going to have an older sister/younger brother one. Just thought I needed to get that out of the way now, before anyone asks about it.**

Chapter 2

Soon after Amy stopped trying to comfort me, she got up to continue healing other people. I went to some of the various medical staff, and asked where I could go to talk to someone about healing with Parahuman powers. I received directions, followed them, and asked there. I received a reply in the positive, and went off healing others in a different direction than Amy did. I helped quite a bit, as I could heal many and injury that would take her possibly hours within minutes. Of course, I left a few bugs watching over Taylor, along with directions to notify me as to when her dad came in. As stated in the canon, bug senses weren't very good, on top of not being very compatible with our own, but overlaying several looking at the same thing gives a decent enough picture for what I wanted. Soon enough, Danny Hebert came in to find his daughter. As soon as I found he had entered the building, I walked over her room to greet him, and tell him what I knew.

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When I walked in, I found Mr. Hebert sitting in one of the chairs surrounding her bed.

"Mr. Hebert?" I asked him.

"Yes, who is it?" He saw my ears, but other than a slight widening of the eyes, had little reaction.

"I am James Greenwood, I was the one to pull your daughter from the locker." I started without preamble. Seeing his eyes grow wider, I sighed and decided to start from the beginning. "I would have thought that you would have been informed when you got here. It doesn't matter now. Ms. Hebert here was locked in her school locker for a minimum of four hours, sitting in biological waste, with bugs crawling over her, which seemed to have been eating her alive for at least an hour," I stated bluntly. He quickly turned pale, however I continued on. "Roughly an hour after school hours ended, I was called in to grab my bag, which I had left there the previous day. Soon after, I arrived to get it, and walked by a mass of bugs surrounding a single locker. I wondered if it was from a Cape, and opened the locker. Your daughter fell out, and I called an ambulance. They arrived, and put her in the vehicle. As I was the one who called, and apparently knew more about it at the time, they brought me along with them here. As it was so soon after the end of school hours, Panacea was called to heal her. She is now perfectly healthy." My explanation, especially the end of it, caused him to sag in relief.

"Why is she still asleep?" He asked.

"A few reasons, part of which is likely her mind resting from the... events... of the day. I suggest transferring her to Arcadia as soon as you can. There is another reason, however, and is possibly more important in the long term, if only for the long-term effects." He looked up from his daughter at this, and motioned for me to continue. I obliged. "During her time in the locker, at what time exactly is unknown, she Triggered."

He looked horrified at this, and I couldn't blame him. Trigger Events were terrible things, and tended to be thought worse off than killing someone. It is understandable, Trigger Events are literally the worst days of a person's life. Events surrounding someone's death often would often be less traumatic than most Triggers. "Her power is bug control on a massive scale, paired with a staggering level of parallel processing, allowing for the independent control of every single bug in her range. Her sleep right now is a biological process started by me, in order for her mind to adapt to the mental and sensory overload caused by her power, as it is still a lot of minds all connected to hers, and it dumped a lot of information into her mind." He looked, gob smacked I believe is the correct term, before he started thinking about it.

"But how do you know all this, and how did you start that process?" He asked me.

"I was able to, because my own power is a Trump. I have the ability to see powers, tell their limits and create permanent, stronger copies for my own use. However, I have to see the power used right in front of me to copy it, and it doesn't work through picture or video. I can use different pieces of those powers in conjunction with others, although I cannot control my power copying others. I saw Taylor using her power unconsciously to surround her locker with those bugs, and copied it then. My own power saved me from the mental backlash, so I didn't have the same problem. I also copied Panacea's power when I saw her use it on Taylor, and as I lack most of the hard limits on those powers, was able to start on that process as I explained it to you." I heard a whispered '_thank you'_, but didn't comment.

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It wasn't too long before Amy's shift ended, and at that point she called her sister to come pick her up. Of course, seeing as there is little to no traffic in the sky, she arrived quickly. The descriptions in the book didn't due her justice! She looked amazing! Perfect! -right up to the point my power copied hers and negated the effect due to my own aura.

"Do you mind not blasting people with your aura as soon as you meet them?" I questioned her mildly, a spark of mischief in my eye.

Glory Girl looked shocked. "Wha-bu- you're not affected?"

I adopted an amused expression. "Oh, I was. Right up to the point my power decided it didn't like yours, made a copy, and then negated your power with my new one. Of course, I had to limit the output so as not to simply reverse the effect, and instead to only negate it, but that's beside the point. It's time to go now, isn't it? Come on, Nya!" I shot up and flew away before she could recover from her confusion. She grabbed her sister and soon led the way.

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We soon arrived at the Dallon's house, where the rest of the family was waiting, mostly patiently. It was Brandish who spoke up first.

"Vicky, why did you call a meeting? And who is this?" Carol Dallon asked, with a bit of a frown on her face.

"James Greenwood, ma'am." I piped up, hiding a smile. I could tell she somewhat recognized the name, even if she was still frowning.

"He wants to join the team, mom." Vicky told her.

"Why?"

I had that spark in my eye again. "Well, your father and my grandfather were really good friends, right? Andrew Dallon and Jeffry Greenwood used to call you _little Carry_, yes? Isn't that right, _Auntie Carry_?" She froze in place, embarrassed and mortified. Everyone there, other than her, all started laughing their heads off. I was soon voted in by just about everybody.

"So, what are your powers?" One of them asked me. So, I explained again. By the end of it they were all shocked and not just a little impressed.

"Anything you can say about us?" The same person asked. This time I recognized her, her name was Crystal.

"Well, Vicky's a lot weaker than she should be, but I can't really tell you anything you haven't found out yourself, Nya." I said offhand.

"She's _Weaker _than she should be?" She asked with incredulity.

I asked a question of her. "How hard is it for you to do three to four things at once? Her power has to control her aura, flight, strength, and her shield all at once, and doesn't do a particularly good job at any of them. The flight, strength, and aura are all active effects, while the shield is passive. If she could completely suppress her aura, her strength would be near Alexandria level, and her shield could take the equivalent force of a nuke head on before breaking. It wouldn't repair itself any faster, and it will still only block physical attacks, but..." Seeing their looks, I sighed. "I told you, part of my power allows me to see what others can do."

Carol Dallon _looked _at her daughter.

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It was about two hours later that Vicky finally managed to suppress her aura, having finally made an actual effort to do so on top of encouragement from her frankly terrifying mother, and soon after she, Amy, and I went on a patrol. The patrol area overlapped with the wards, but that was nearly unavoidable, and in fact helped in most cases.

Twenty minutes later, and I was screaming while my power tried to make sense of the one it copied. Once I stopped screaming my head of, roughly two minutes after that, I was finally able to stand up and use my power to heal myself.

"Are you okay?" I heard a young voice ask. I recognized Vista, which explained why I was in so much pain.

I nodded a bit. "I'm fine, it was just a bit of a bad reaction to our powers, not your fault."

Vicky looked a bit confused at this. "How could a power copying power have a bad reaction with any power? There were some kind of distortions all around you while you were screaming!"

I shook my head at her. "That's not all my power does, as I've explained to you. It's involuntary permanent, amplified copying of others powers when I see them used."

"Wait, so you stole my power?" Vista asked me, seeming a bit angry.

"Not exactly. I have no control over my power, and I don't steal them. I make a copy, which I can then use. It's not even really amplified, as such, instead what I do is remove certain limits powers have. There apparently was no way to do that with your power instead of removing the Manton Limit, so instead what it did what shove all the spatial math your power does for you into my head. I can also use pieces or entirely different powersets together to do something like this Nya!" As I said that, I turned myself into a cat and jumped into her arms, and looked up to her with my little kitty face. She immediately started petting me, very happy now, and I started purring. A few seconds later, the others started laughing and I jumped away from her and turned back to a human. I kept the tail, though.

I scowled at them. "I will reverse your genders," that immediately had them all stop laughing, and they all looked scared of my threat.

"You wouldn't!" Vicky cried.

I smiled sweetly, although something about it seemed twisted to them. They all started shivering, until I decided I had scared them enough and my smile turned normal, all without me moving a muscle.

"How did you even turn into a cat anyway?" Gallant spoke up for the first time this conversation.

"The answer's fairly obvious if you think about it, I manipulate my biomass on the surface to look like a cat, and fold the excess into pockets of expanded space, so that I shrink to the correct size. I could do anything; I just need enough biomass and the same shrinking or expanding if it's a larger thing." In explanation, I brought around 1,000 bugs to me, not even 1/100th of all the bugs in my range, turned them all into biomass, made a hole in space to the entrance of another hole on the inside of my skull, greatly expanded to be able to hold all of it, and used it to turn into a cat large enough for all four of them to ride. I then jumped and bent space in such a way that I was standing on a platform of biomass turned into living wood. It wasn't really there, the platform was in biomass pocket, so it looked like I was standing on the air.

I explained all of this to them, and had the amusing experience of watching them all gape at me. Maybe because I was talking while still being in the form of a rather large cat? Suddenly, the sound of several guns going off was heard in the distance. Pretty much usual in the city of Brockton Bay, unfortunately.

We all quickly rushed over to the area the gunshots were heard from, and saw a small battle between the ABB and the E88. Included in the fight were three capes, Oni Lee, Cricket, and Stormtiger. As I watched, Oni Lee dropped one of his grenades near Cricket and teleported away, while she ran as far away from it as she could as fast as she could. That had me copying both their powers, and scowling when I saw one of the E88 grunts caught in the blast and killed. I quickly decided not to ever use Lee's power; I had no interest in losing my mind. I had just one question.

"Will anyone other than Lung mind if I kill him?" I asked, deadly serious. The others looked thoughtful, before Vista shook her head.

"I think the only ones who'll really care are the ABB. He doesn't even help them much, for the most part the E88 is held off by Lung's reputation." She told me; a bit uneasy but not uncertain.

I walked off the roof and onto another of a different building, using my spatial powers to make what was essentially a door between the two points. I used my biokinetic power and the biomass still inside my pocket, having turned back from the large cat form soon after we got on the first roof, to make a living sniper rifle. I had not bought Marksmanship from the CYOA, but I had no need of it when my grandfather's power was so much better. Perfect accuracy at no cost instead of around five points.

I made five different pockets that I filled with air; 25 ft cubed, and compressed those rooms to only around a millimeter cubed, with for-now closed 'doors' on the back of the barrel to shoot the bullet. Those pockets I overlaid on top of each other, and waited until he stopped teleporting to get a clean shot off on him. Once I had it, I bent space around his face to make him unable to see, my bio-gun to stop the sound from going anywhere, and took the shot strait through his mask, brain, and his Corona Pollentia and Gemma. So, even if that shot doesn't kill him almost instantly, somehow, he'll never be able to use his powers again. The bullet, made of altered bone, was just stong enough to get out of his head, but broke into pieces as soon as it hit the building behind him.

All combat stalled as I walked down steps that weren't there, my costume now on. I had gone over the design for a few moments, and it looked like a normal cape outfit, more specifically the differences were it being a dark blue suit of biomass with my face uncovered, and a logo over my heart, inside which the 'shards' of it were either breaking off and falling into the void or forming a connection with others, all of it constantly floating on top of that void that seems to go on forever, the entire thing a passive look that was entirely random other than a piece that falls always rising to take the place of already fallen piece from a second before. My living weapon melted back into me, and I spoke. Only one word was spoken.

"Scatter." Nothing special, just the word. It was spoken calmly, but with an edge of steel. No 'temperature dropping so much you can feel it' or anything like that, just the word. No malice, I held no real hatred for any of them, but nonetheless they all ran like the hounds of Hell were at their heels.

But they couldn't run. They were all trapped in their own mostly separate areas, a box that regenerated as they moved, remaking itself from what gets destroyed behind them as they run. There were now two islands on my logo, one holding all the rooms of the E88 members, the other the ABB. All my rooms, from the containment inside my suit logo to the biomass one on my skull, were all anchored to that very same symbol. Now, I made another inside my heart, to hold all and any of my biomass suits that I will ever make.

I proceeded to walk up to walk up to my new friends, standing on the air again. Which for some reason people find more disconcerting than people just flying. An amusing effect, but I do like walking on the air more than flying.

They looked a bit... befuddled? I think that's the word. Anyway, they all look like they are trying to understand what just happened. Taking mercy on them, I explained what I could without explaining the spatial mathematics, which were a bitch to understand, even with the equivalent of 30,000 minds working on it for all of those two minutes.

I decided to explain why I wanted to kill him. "His confirmed kill count was well into the hundreds. Higher than some of the S9 members, who all have Kill Orders, and he was still running around killing people. He doesn't even have a power that makes him difficult to kill! He's just left running around, unchecked, and no-one cares! People who don't have powers and kill even a tenth are easily given the death sentence, but he hasn't been!" I, exploded would be a good description. The next part made me sad, no matter it was Oni Lee. "Even still, I didn't like killing him. It was, however, a mercy for everyone, even him. The original Oni Lee died when he triggered. His power leaves the original standing there to take the hit, while a clone continued living, leaving pieces of his mind behind every time he cloned himself. He didn't even have any true personality left, he used his power too often, and all that was left was a mindless killing machine."

The others were sad as well, no matter who it is, no one deserves to live like that. The phrase, "There are things worse than death," comes to mind. This is one of them.

"If you need a name for your report," I started for Vista and Gallant, "for being a Cape it would be ShardKitty. If I decide to use anything else that's similar it'll probably be shortened to that by PHO anyway, Nya." I told them dryly.

I made a Hole to the police department, waved back to them, then stepped through with Amy and Vicky, the Hole closing behind us.

**XXXXX**

**Looks like I was wrong in the Authors note from F.Q., it looks like this will also be 3,000+. Not that it's a bad thing, but still. So, any comments? This will also officially be another story of mine. I have way too many unfinished, with partially done chapters and many ideas which I can't seem to write down. F.Q. probably won't be continued, though. Before I leave, I'll give you this amusing thought I had; Quetzalcoatl James meets Uber and L33t, and they decide to reenact the game...**

**.**

**.**

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**JETPACK JOYRIDE!**

**Think on that, and good-bye!**

_**XXXXX**_

_**Updated March 15th, 2019**_

_**Sorry, but this is going to be put off for a while, intentionally instead of accidentally like most my other fics. On the good comment from one of the readers, I realized yes, some characters are acting OOC. Anyone who likes this, don't get upset with them. I have a hard enough time with the personality of a character I built from scratch, and I need to read the source material in the first place. I could say it's just different because 'AU!' but I don't want to devalue my story. No offence to anyone who uses that, I just haven't planned for it to be an AU like that already. Most people plan out things that go into an AU like that, and I haven't.**_

_**On a better note, to address some other comments, here because I have no more chapters to comment on myself and I have no wish to break the rules. Hnh058513, thanks! To the one who complained about his explanation, if you'll deign to notice, it was to Taylor and New Wave only. One is the MC from source material, the other a group he was trying to join. He didn't want any distrust between New Wave, and to be honest, what can you do against a power like his? With most- all powers, he can use them against the original, and Tinker Teck either will do the same or his powers, No matter what they were, will do nothing to help. Tinker Tech is bullshit, this is an established fact.**_


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